


Changeling

by Emma



Series: The Queen's Magicians [5]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-24
Updated: 2010-09-24
Packaged: 2017-10-12 04:00:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/120517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emma/pseuds/Emma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A young girl's mysterious history could bring disaster to Cardiff and Torchwood Three. This is <em>Small Worlds</em>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Gwen sniffed ecstatically at the glossy white box in her hands. She had been given strict instructions by Sister Enid, the bishop's cook, not to open it until she got to the Hub. She had behaved; the terrifying old nun probably had ways of finding out if she disobeyed. But the smell was driving her spare.

 

When she stepped through the cog door she had to fight to keep her expression bland. All her colleagues, even Ianto, were standing around oh-so-casually trying to look busy and failing miserably. She held up the box in triumph.

 

"Who's ready for a sugar rush?" she asked. "Ianto, coffee?"

 

He raised an eyebrow. "Brewed five minutes ago. Conference room."

 

They trailed after her as she went up the stairs. "I feel like the pied piper,' she said as she put the box on the table. "Let's see."

 

The box was filled with small pastry puffs dusted with sugar and redolent with the scent of almonds.

 

"Buñuelos de viento!" Jack crowed and grabbed one. "I wonder what she used for filling… ummm, mocha almond cream."

 

Everyone reached in and for a few minutes the room was filed with the sounds of chewing and moans of pleasure. Ianto took a few minutes to pour the coffee, and they all settled in to enjoy.

 

"What did you call these, Jack?" Gwen asked.

 

"Buñuelos de viento. Wind puffs. When I was a student in Salamanca my landlady used to make these for Sunday dinner. She filled hers with red currant preserves with a little brandy mixed in."

He was reaching for another puff when his phone rang.

"Hello, Estelle!" He said, obviously pleased. "No, of course not…… yes. We'll be right over." Putting away the phone, he reached for his mug and drained it in one gulp. "Sorry, kids. Duty calls."

 

"Why is it," Owen groused, "that we always get these calls when we're eating?"

 

"It's the Torchwood version of the butter-side-down rule," Ianto answered blandly. "And the better the food the worse the situation."

 

"So this should be a shitstorm, yeah?"

 

"It might be," Jack said. "Estelle has been treating a young girl, Jasmine Pierce. She was brought to the Episcopal Court charged with practising the dark arts." At Gwen's stricken expression he patted her hand. "She was cleared quickly enough, but the Court determined that Jasmine would benefit from psychiatric therapy."

 

"That's Court speak for child abuse they can't prove," Tosh said.

 

"Estelle thinks there might be more to it than that. She wants us to consult."

 

"Did she say what the problem is?" Owen asked.

 

"No, but she's brought us cases twice before and both times it was psychic attacks by supernatural entities." He stood up. "Tosh, find anything you can on Jasmine Pierce and her family. Owen, start reading up on those cases. Ianto, call Kathy and see if you can get a peep at the Court records, or whatever she will give you. Gwen, with me."

 

She trotted after him. "Where are we going?"

 

"Saint Nicholas Children's Hospital. That's where Estelle works." He studied her unhappy expression for a few minutes. "If this is too hard, I can ask Tosh."

 

"No! It's not that. My experience with the Court was actually quite positive. It's just… my first job when I joined the police was office support on the Tin Street case."

 

"Oh. Ouch. I can see how this would bring back bad memories. But if you're sure…"

 

"Yes! I'll be fine."

 

St. Nicholas turned out to be a fancy private hospital set on its own grounds behind a high security fence. Jack's Estelle was a lovely woman in her late sixties wearing a cerise-colored suit Gwen would have happily given her eyeteeth for, and a welcoming smile. Her office was clearly set up for children – low tables and toys everywhere – but there was a small, delicate antique desk and a comfortable-looking sofa and chairs by the window.

 

She watched as Jack enfolded her in his arms and kissed her cheek. "Estelle, this is Gwen Cooper, my new girl. Gwen, this is Estelle Vaughan, my best girl."

 

"At least you didn't say my old girl!"

 

"They day I say something so stupid I'll let you section me." He ushered everyone to the seating area. "Tell us about Jasmine Pierce."

 

"She's eleven years old, but seems a little older. Physically, she's just exquisite. Long blond hair and blue eyes, and the most beautiful hands. Usually the kinds that get picked on in school are the odd ones and the plain ones. Jasmine looks like the girl who always gets the leading role in the class play."

 

"But she was getting picked on?" Gwen asked.

 

"Viciously. That's how she ended up in the Court. An accusation from a vindictive girl and her gullible mother. I'm told it took all of one hour to clear Jasmine." She sat back, steepling her fingers and bringing them to her lips much like Gwen had seen Jack do. "But the Court was uneasy. The family situation seemed odd. So they sent her to me."

 

"And…" Jack prompted.

 

"There's something odd, alright. Her father died three years ago. Her mother is remarrying and pregnant. Spends all her time in her own world and sometimes Jasmine is an afterthought. Her stepfather-to-be is a bit of a lad, very unlike Jasmine's father, who was a respected musician and teacher. They moved out of the only home she has known and in with the stepfather. Her whole world is rearranging itself and she has no say in it. Jasmine should be miserably unhappy, but she seems almost relieved. She actually likes her stepfather in a sort of superior way." She sighed. "I should be happy she seems so well adjusted, but there's something here, Jack. Something isn't right."

 

"It sounds like…" Gwen stopped and started again. "Do you know if she's fond of spending time in a particular place? Woods, rivers, the sea shore?"

 

"Oh, you've got a clever one here, Jack. You're an Old Believer, aren't you, Gwen? I can call you Gwen, can I? Yes. She does. There's a small forest near her house, one of those places nobody ever builds on for some reason. She spends most of her free time there. She says she studies and draws, has even brought me some of her work…" She reached for a folder on the table. "Here."

 

There were about a half-dozen drawings in it. Gwen spread them out on the table. They were extremely well done; if she had been asked before she knew anything about the artist, she would have pegged him or her as an adult with very well defined sensibilities. She studied them a little longer.

 

"Do you see it, Gwen?"

 

"Yes." She pointed at several spots in the drawings. "These spaces… it's almost as if there's supposed to be someone there. Is that it?"

 

"Very clever indeed. Exactly." Estelle sat back. "She's spending time with someone or something in those woods. And it wouldn't be the first time a girl's emotions were manipulated until she's past all help." She turned to Gwen. "Can I ask you a question? Why did you immediately assume that it wasn't a natural situation? Most people would have thought of sexual abuse."

 

"My mother had a cousin. Beautiful, talented, a little odd. She went to her undine lover when she was fifteen. When you were talking about Jasmine, I had this clear image of her."

 

"You have a touch of the precognitive about you, Gwen. Keep watch. It can be very dangerous."

 

Gwen nodded, swallowing hard. Her teachers had concentrated on developing her mediumistic abilities, but she knew they had always worried – not in her presence – about that wild talent of hers.

 

"We'll look into it, Estelle," Jack stood up. "Next Friday?" At her nod, he kissed her cheek again. "I'll bring the champagne."

 

As they got back into the SUV, Gwen ventured to ask Jack a question. 'So, how long have you known Estelle?"

 

"Since the sixties. You know, summer of love, strawberry fields, Georgy girl." He gave her a sideways glance. "Surprised or shocked?"

 

"Neither, really. Just a few weeks on the job and I've had all my preconceptions kicked out of me. But it surprises me she knows about you."

 

He shrugged. "She figured it out and asked. Estelle has this… acceptance about her. If she knows you and likes you, very few things would drive her away."

 

The SUV's comm pinged. "Jack?"

 

"Yes, Ianto?"

 

"Kathy says feel free to drop by. I got the impression she really wanted to talk to you about Jasmine."

 

"Will do, thanks."

 

"Kathy?" Gwen asked.

 

"Kathy Swanson. Senior Investigator for Dark Arts for the Episcopal Court."


	2. Chapter 2

Gwen sipped her tea and tried to relax. In spite of what she had told Jack, she still didn't feel very comfortable in official Church premises. Not that there was anything overtly religious about Kathy Swanson's office, save for the photo of the investigator receiving her Symbols from Mother Katherine. Otherwise it was a cop's place through and through.

 

"You all right, Gwen?" Jack asked.

 

"Yeah. Its' just that… if anyone had told me two months ago I was going to be eating sweets made especially for me by the Bishop's cook and drinking tea with the Bishop's witch hunter I would have chucked them into a cold shower to sober up."

 

He grinned. "Stick with me, baby and you'll go places."

 

"Ask lots of questions before you accept." Kathy Swanson swept into her office. "I didn't and look where it got me. This is Aaron ben Joseph, my assistant. He was primary on the Pierce investigation."

 

"I am primary half the time," the young man said in tones that would have done Ianto proud. "There's only two of us in the office."

 

"Hush," Swanson said. "Sit down and tell them what you told me."

 

"Yes, ma'am." He plopped down on the chair, more like an overgrown puppy than a grown man. "The accusation was nonsense, of course. Whatever is going on with Jasmine Pierce has nothing to do with dark arts. But…"

 

"But you think there's something wrong."

 

Ben Joseph looked at his boss, who growled, "All of it, Aaron."

 

"According to the girl who brought the accusation, Jasmine seduced and then killed two men using dark arts. The mother, who is…"

 

"An imbecile," supplied Swanson.

 

"Indeed. The mother alleged that the girl's beauty had to be some sort of spell. We tested for every possible sort of dark magic and the girl was as clean as Mother Katherine herself. Those two went off to their confessor with their tails between their legs, let me tell you. Father Anselm is not one to hold his tongue. That ended the our office's official involvement. But there were some details in the girl's story that tickled my memory so I did some research on my own."

 

"And you found?" Jack asked.

 

"Two men were reported missing during that month. One, William Goodson, was a convicted pedophile. He was last seen at Cardiff Hospital PICU, trying to get himself committed. He told them he was being followed by spirits. The attending physician had just had to certify the suicide of a young boy and he was not in the mood for what he called histrionics. He told Goodson off and had him chucked out. His body was found four months later… in the woods where Jasmine plays."

 

"And the other man?"

 

"Peter Jones. A sad loser with a history of bad choices. Lived with his mother and worked at a video store. Was a photography nut, and, I think, could have made something of himself if he had been more likely to take pictures and less likely to get pissed every night. He's never been found. I visited his mother and found a stack of photos. A lot of them were of children, candid snapshots, rather sugary calendar stuff. Among them were four pictures of Jasmine."

 

"You said something had tickled your memory," Gwen said. "What was it?"

 

"The girl said the men were killed by stuffing their throats with rose petals." Jack's harsh intake of breath had him nodding. "I see you've heard of it too."

 

"What is it?" Gwen asked.

 

"There's an obscure Scottish legend about a man who dared lay hands on a child of the sidhe." ben Joseph said. "He was punished by being choked to death with rose petals."

 

"No legend." Jack said. "It happened a few miles from where I was born and it was my grandfather who had to untangle the mess."

 

"Ah." ben Joseph seemed to file the information away. "The thing is, when they found Goodson's body there were rose petals all over the place… including this mouth."

 

Jack stood up, extending his hand to the younger man. "Thank you, Mr. ben Joseph."

 

"My pleasure. I've been wanting to meet you for years."

 

"Get that look out of your eyes, Jack Harkness." Swanson snapped. "I'm not losing any more staff to Torchwood. Aaron, off with you."

 

"This isn't good, is it, Jack?" Swanson asked once the door closed behind her laughing associate.

 

"I don't think so, no. I'll keep you informed, Kathy."

 

Traffic was still light and Gwen let Jack indulge his passion for fast driving – after making sure both her shoulder and lap belts were tightly secured – without complaint; well, except for the time where he squeezed between two lorries, shooting past them and leaving behind a number of inventive curses in both in Welsh and English. At that point she tried to verbally take a strip of hide or two off the man, but he just laughed at her.

 

When they got to the Hub they found Owen and Tosh still deep into research. Jack stopped cold and looked around. "Where's Ianto?"

 

"Archives. He's still on his organizing kick." Tosh said. "And I have two puzzles for you."

 

He took off his coat and tossed it negligently on the sofa. "Tell me."

 

"First puzzle: why would a successful musician destroy his career by moving and changing his name?" She pushed a button and a man's face filled her monitor. "This is David Pierce McCrimmon, piper and harpist, originally from Inverness. According to my information the McCrimmons are famous musicians?"

 

"You could say that," Jack laughed. "They are considered the greatest piping clan in history, hereditary pipers to the McLeods of Dunvegan for about a thousand years. I have a McCrimmon for a great-great grandfather."

 

"Well, this McCrimmon married a nice Welsh girl and took her back home. Two years later, soon after the birth of his first child, he moved his family back to Wales, dropped the McCrimmon, and became just Pierce."

 

"Umm. And the second puzzle?"

 

"How does a family that registered a son, David Pierce McCrimmon the second, in Inverness, arrive in Cardiff with a daughter, Jasmine Elizabeth?"

 

Gwen looked up from the book she was leafing through. "Are you sure?"

 

"Absolutely. Why?"

 

"I've been thinking about what Estelle and Aaron ben James said." She checked off each item on her fingers. "An exquisite girl who attracts a lot of resentment from other girls, who spends a lot of time in the woods, who doesn't seem to care if her Mother doesn't pay any attention to her, who may have a protector who eliminates anyone who is a danger to her…"

 

"You're thinking of a changeling." Jack said. "But why hide? If a fairy steals a child, there are ways to force its return. A McCrimmon would be sure to get a hearing in front of the Seelie Court, even the Unseelie Court if it comes to that… _Gonadh. An robh iadsan cuthach?_ "

 

"Who were mad?" Ianto asked as he came out of the tunnel leading to the Archives.

 

"The McCrimmons. Pierces. Whatever. Tosh, do you have a picture of Jasmine?" She nodded. "Put it up, would you?"

 

The image was of a tall, slender girl with masses of silver-blond hair cascading to her waist and long, elegant limbs. She looked as if she would glide instead of walk. There was a distant look in her dark blue eyes as if she were listening to far-away voices.

 

"Estelle was right." Gwen said. "She is stunning. Jack, are you all right?"

 

"No." Jack's voice was hoarse and he reached out a hand to Ianto, who clasped it between his own. "Tosh, audio link to Mainframe, please. Mainframe, file, Harkness, Jack, personal, document, fairies, sub doc Mab. Split screen with current image."

 

The side-by-side images could have been different versions of the same person.

 

"You were right, Gwen. We're talking about a changeling. Except that it wasn't the fairies who stole a boy and left a girl. The McCrimmons stole a fairy child and left their boy in her place. And not just any fairy child. The drawing is of Queen Mab of the Unseelie Court. That's her granddaughter, who went missing eleven years ago."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jack is speaking Scots Gaelic: _Gonadh. An robh iadsan cuthach?_ means _Damn. Were they mad?_


	3. Chapter 3

Gwen dropped her keys on the ceramic bowl Rhys had put on the kitchen counter as a last-ditch effort to stop her from losing them. She was tired and hungry, but mostly she was scared. Her mam-gu had told her stories of mad Queen Mab and the things she did to mortals who displeased her; and she remembered once, when she was very little, her godmother storming into their kitchen, looking like she was about to start slinging elf-shot in every direction, screaming about Mab's bloody intransigence. If Jack was right, the Mad Queen was coming for her granddaughter with the Unseelie Host at her back. What King Gwynn would have to say about this invasion of his kingdom was not something she wanted to consider just at that moment.

 

She opened the fridge and pulled out the casserole Rhys had left for her. She hated these trips he had to take every other week. She wanted him here, with her, so she could cuddle with him on the sofa with her head over his heart, and listen to its steady beating. Rhys was solid, real, and whenever he was around she felt stronger. On the other hand, she was glad he was away from all this. If it came to war, the old borders would be closed. Rhys would be safe in Carlisle.

 

The ring of the doorbell caught her by surprise. Her parents were visiting relations in Llangoed, and Rhys's friends knew he was away. She cradled the casserole in one arm and went to open the door.

 

"Tosh? Is anything wrong?"

 

"No. I just… You're having dinner. I shouldn't have…"

 

"No, come in. Join me if you haven't eaten yet. Rhys always makes enough for six. Throw your coat over there."

 

She popped the casserole in the microwave and set the time as per Rhys's careful instructions. Then she opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle of wine. She poured each a glass.

 

"It'll be ready in fifteen minutes," she told Tosh. "In the meantime, tell me what's worrying you."

 

Tosh was quiet for a moment.

 

"Can I help with that?" she asked as Gwen started to set the table.

 

"No. Come on, Tosh. Ask."

 

"It's about Jack and Ianto. After what happened on the Plas, I did a little research. Don't smirk at me like that, it's my way of dealing with anxiety!" She giggled and suddenly they were both laughing, a release of tension as much as humor. "I understand the mechanics of a geis, but that… what happened… seems to go beyond that. They used to be happy, Gwen. Now it's as if they can't stand being apart, but at the same time they're so tense it's painful to watch."

 

"I know." She sipped her wine. "What Jack did is very old magic. It has to do with the nature of a geis. You see, most geis don't take motive into consideration. In technical words, it's an if-then statement. _If you do a, then x will happen_. Once it's in motion, it can't be stopped. What Jack did was to use Caledfwlch to rewrite the statement and become Ianto's geis holder. Since Ianto had acted under his instructions, he was safe."

 

"But that's good, isn't it? Or it should be."

 

"Not really. The geis Ianto was under was very strong. The only way Jack could tamper with it was to use Wales's most powerful magical object to bind Ianto to himself as a vassal, since in magical terms only a vassal can be ordered to break a vow. In essence, Jack now owns Ianto."

 

"Gwen!"

 

"It's more complicated than that, truly. There are mutual responsibilities. Have you noticed how Jack looks for Ianto at times? Ianto's become Jack's anchor, his link to the real world. Jack is the brake on and the guarantee for Ianto's behavior. But the bottom line is that Jack controls Ianto. Literally. Ianto cannot say no to Jack." Tosh's stricken face made it clear that she had grasped the implications. "How can either one of them be happy about that?"

 

The microwave timer went off. She took the casserole out of the oven and put it on the table. "Bring the wine. I think it's time you and I got really and truly pissed. If one bottle doesn't do it, I've got more. Shit. Napkins."

 

She headed to the kitchen only to be pushed back by a gust of wind that smelled like lilacs after a spring rain. Tosh was half out of her chair, looking around a little wildly.

 

'It's fine, Tosh. It's safe." She took a candy dish filled with chocolate-covered almonds from the counter and offered it to the empty air. "Welcome to my home."

 

The young man had the ethereal beauty and the mischievous eyes of his kind, but there was seriousness in him that she had never seen in any Tylwyth Teg before. He wore forest green from head to toe, and the jeweled badge on his left shoulder identified him as a herald messenger of King Gwynn's court.

 

"I thank you for your kindness, but I cannot tarry. His Majesty has begun the gathering of the Host."

 

"Gwen?" Tosh whispered uncertainly. "Tell me there's someone there."

 

Gwen realized with a start that Tosh could not see the messenger. "Yes, there is. I'm sorry," she said to the faerie, "my friend has no magic, so she cannot see you. It is not disrespect."

 

The Tylwyth Teg's eyes studied Tosh carefully. "She has magic. It was inhibited when she was a child. Her father did not think it suitable. I judge that she would be most unhappy to know that. But… "He reached out and touched Tosh's forehead. "There."

 

Tosh's half-scream at the – to her – sudden appearance of a handsome young man in forest green was almost comical. Controlling her impulse to laugh, Gwen made a shrugging gesture at her friend.

 

"The Tylwyth Teg gifts you with elf-sight. They're impulsive, sometimes." She addressed the messenger. "You have news?"

 

"I bring a message to the Swordbearer. King Gwynn ap Nudd bids him tell Queen Mab to take her child and go home. There is no place for the Unseelie Court in Kymry."

 

"She will be told. But whether she will listen is another matter."

 

"Then let him tell her to look to her own throne, from within and without." He tilted his head as if listening. "My Lord sends a message to yours. His counselor is in danger."

 

"His counselor?"

 

"The woman who cares for children. Tell him to hurry!"

 

Gwen didn't bother with the customary departure courtesies. She dove for her purse and fished out her cell phone.

 

"Jack? Estelle is in trouble. Right now… Yes, I'll explain later."

 

She put down her phone to find Tosh talking to Owen. In a few seconds, she too put her phone away.

 

"Gwen, what the Tylwyth Teg said sounded like war!" Tosh was shaking slightly. "There hasn't been a war between the fair kingdoms in four hundred years and the last time it happened it was followed by two hundred years of disastrous weather. Whole countries collapsed!"

 

"The Little Ice Age. I know, Tosh, I know. And Tosh… that was an intra-clan dynastic struggle somewhere in Northern Poland. This would be full out war between two of the most powerful fair kingdoms in the world." She sat down with a thump. "I'm not very hungry anymore."

 

"Neither am I."

 

"Tosh… if I lend you a pair of pajamas and make up the sofa, would you stay overnight? I don't think I want to be alone tonight"

"Where can I put my laptop? I think we're going to have to do a lot more research. And Gwen? Bring that wine."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gwynn ap Nudd is the King of the Tylwyth Teg, the fairy folk of Wales. Kymry as a name for Wales is found in a poem dated to 633, but I decided to appropriate it for the Tylwyth Teg. And "elf-shot" is a fairy weapon; that should tell you something about Gwen's godmama!


	4. Chapter 4

When Jack and Ianto returned to the Hub at four in the morning, they found Gwen and Tosh at their terminals.

 

"How's Estelle?" Gwen asked.

 

"Still in ICU but holding her own,' Jack said. "Owen's with her. Gwen, how did you know?"

 

When she had finished her story, he gave her a considering look. "We'll discuss this again. Still, that's for another day. The Herald was certain Mab was coming?"

 

"Enough that King Gwynn has started mustering his troops." She shivered. "I looked at Jasmine's records. Her twelfth birthday is tomorrow. I don't know how it is with the Courts, but for the Tylwyth Teg that is the day they leave childhood behind and swear allegiance to the Sovereign. "

 

"It's the same. If Jasmine is here tomorrow, King Gwynn could claim her for his own. Mab would move heaven itself to get her back before tomorrow night."

 

Tosh came up to them carrying a printout. "I know what happened! Turns out Lynn Pierce had trouble conceiving. Several doctors turned her down for fertility treatment because they felt she was emotionally unstable. Finally she got pregnant on her own, but the baby was born extremely ill, with multiple problems, including severe deafness and limb deformities. Lynn Pierce blamed elf-shot."

 

"Any signs of that?"

 

"None. They went to several Healers but the answer was always the same. The baby was born like that naturally. Lynn was put under psychiatric care. Three months later, the family disappeared."

 

"So you think she stole the baby and when he found out, they ran." Ianto said.

 

"Would you trust Mab's kindness? I've read some things about her that, well…"

 

"Don't mistake Mab." Jack said. "She's been known to be kind a time or two."

 

"Maybe not this time, Jack." Gwen said. "About the same time the McCrimmons' baby was born, the Ambassador to the Fair Kingdoms filed two memoranda with the PM implying ever so discreetly that Mab was facing serious unrest in the ranks. Three months later he was asked to retire for unprofessional involvement in the internal matters of the Fair Kingdoms. All very sub-rosa. It made me curious."

 

"Breaking into Downing Street's secret files? I'm impressed. And?"

 

"The Ambassador died three years ago. An expert was called in to appraise some of his property. The man found a letter inside some sort of writing desk, and emailed a friend about it, all excited. Wanted to make a big splash with it. He implied the Ambassador had been involved in some plot against Queen Mab." She made a face. "Several days after he sent the email he was found dead in his flat. He had been tortured before he was killed."

 

"Jack, I think we should let Kathy know what's going on," Ianto said. "If the two factions decide to battle it out over the girl, we could have a disaster on our hands."

 

"Hold on a minute, Ianto." Tosh said. "Lynn and her fiancée went to London yesterday but are booked to return on the morning train. They're throwing a combined surprise birthday and engagement party this afternoon."

 

"I'll notify the PM as well." Ianto said quietly. "Just in case."

 

Owen returned a little after sunrise, with the news that Estelle was out of intensive care and would make a full recovery. Jack ordered him to bed. "There's nothing you can do now, but I'll need you functional in a few hours. Get some rest."

 

They spent the rest of the morning getting ready. Kathy Swanson called at around noon. "Lynn and Roy just got off the train. Are you sure you don't need some help?"

 

"The fewer targets for Mab and her Host, the better. Besides, if we fail youwill all be busier than you have ever been in your lives." He closed the call. "Ianto, wake Owen up. You know what you'll need. Tosh will coordinate from here."

 

When Jack and Gwen arrived at the house preparations for the party were in full swing. Lynn's fiancé, Roy, and some of his friends, were in the yard setting up tables. They could hear music blasting loud enough to have people in nearby houses popping their heads out their windows. They knocked on the door. A few minutes later a woman opened it.

 

"Yeah?"

 

"Mrs. Pierce? We're Torchwood. We need to talk to you about Jasmine."

 

The blood drained from her face, leaving it a pale mask with big dark holes for eyes. "What's she done?"

 

"It's better if we talk inside, yeah?" Gwen said in her most soothing tones.

 

She led them to a sitting room filled with cheap modern furniture and crammed with knickknacks. "What has she done? Tell me!"

 

"It's not what she has done," Gwen said. "It's what you did eleven years ago.'

 

"I didn't do anything! Get out of my house. Get out!"

 

"Mrs. Pierce," Jack said bluntly. "Jasmine's grandmother is on her way here to take her back. You know what she can do."

 

She sat down as if he had sliced through the tendons in her legs. Curling her arms protectively around her swollen belly, she rocked, eyes blank with terror.

 

"Mrs. Pierce!" Jack shook her slightly. "There's no time for this. Please…."

 

A crashing noise came from outside and men could be heard running and shouting. At the same time, Tosh's voice sounded in their ears. "Jack! They're here!"

 

They ran out to the backyard. The sky, which had been a glorious blue when they walked into the house, had turned a deep grey, and clouds moved across it in massed banks. The wind howled, scattering the picnic tables as if they were toys. Figures could be seen moving through the woods, and small animals fled before them in terror. The sound of horses' hooves shook the ground, as if a great host were moving towards them.

 

"Jasmine!" screamed Lynn Pierce. "Jasmine, where are you?"

 

The young girl came out of the woods. She seemed unfazed by the commotion as she glided towards them.

 

"Stop them! Make them stop!"

 

"I can't do that, Mother." She sounded calm and distant. "Nobody can do that."

 

The sounds of horses became louder and riders could be seen coming, ghostly figures that hovered above the ground. They came to a stop directly facing the woods. The first line, five riders in close formation, urged their horses down. As the hooves touched the ground both they and the riders became solid. Jack was watching the girl, and she saw the faint smile on her face and the sly look she cast towards the woods. The middle rider guided her horse forward. Lynn Pierce screamed and collapsed into Gwen's arms. Jack bowed deeply.

 

"My Lady Mab."

 

"Jack Harkness. Do you come to stop me, then?"

 

"No, Your Majesty. I come at the bidding of King Gwynn ap Nudd. He bids you accept the return of your granddaughter."

 

A faint, chill smile touched her lips. "I thank His Majesty."

 

He waved towards the woods as Ianto and Owen emerged, holding fairy bows and chivvying a fae Lord in torn and muddy clothes. "He also bids me tell you that there are those in your Court who have attempted to use your loss against you."

 

She made a gesture, and a number of riders moved out of the formation hovering behind the Queen and made for the group. Jack noticed the girl's fleeting frown. He was certain now. The little monster had made a play for her grandmother's throne. At eleven. You have much to learn, Princess Jasmine. I hope you survive your education.

 

"A Queen knows when to cut her losses." He murmured. "Especially one not yet certain of her throne."

 

She looked at him with absolutely no expression, and then moved to lay a hand on the Queen's stirrup. "Are you in truth my grandmother?"

 

"Grandmother and Liege Lord." The faint smile touched the Queen's lips again. "And it may be that you shall inherit my Throne should I depart these lands."

 

"I don't care about that. I just don't want to be here. I want to go home."

 

"And the woman who stole you from us? What shall we do with her?"

 

The girl looked not at her mother, but at Jack. He gave her a smile that was all teeth and warning. She returned it, but nodded. She took Lynn's hand in hers. "I'm going home, Mum. You know I was never happy here. You'll have the new baby, and Roy, and everything will be all right. You'll see." She kissed Lynn's cheek and moved back to the Queen. "I am ready."

 

"Wait!" Lynn threw herself at the ground in front of the Queen. "My son. What has happened to him? Please. I know I have no right, but… please."

 

Mab waved her hand. An image formed in front of them. A boy about Jasmine's age lay in a hammock. His legs and arms were twisted into unnatural shape, and his head was elongated and deformed. He was surrounded by a small army of sprite maidens. One of them was blowing bubbles in his direction, and he batted them away, laughing.

 

"His mind did not grow above two human years. I do not offer him back, for he would be a burden to you. He will be well cared for until he leaves these lands."

 

Lynn bowed her head. "Thank you."

 

Mab looked around one last time. Her eyes fell on Ianto. She stared for what seemed like a long time, then raised her hand slightly in salute; he repeated the gesture, startled but managing to cover it well. Then she turned back to Jack one last time.

 

"Come visit me next time you are in Alba. I am weary of bards and knights."

 

He smiled brilliantly up at her, and bowed, but said nothing. She clapped her hands; a pony was led forward and Jasmine helped on to it. "You may have made an enemy today, my Jack. I will endeavour to teach her the meaning of caution, but I make no guarantee."

 

"You still see everything." He said. "Teach her who I am. It will be enough."


End file.
